


The Iron Fisted Ruler

by neutraloneo



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: AU- What have I done?, Action/Adventure, Angst, Awkwardness, Bless the Wiki Gods, Blood, Bonding, Don't worry: nothing major, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone hates the wind, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fuck you wind, Geography is a little screwy, Guess who finally got the game!, Here we go!, How Do I Tag, Hylians are ducklings confirmed, I don't actually own the game so there shall be setting inaccuracies, I took Canon and put it in a blender, Link (Legend of Zelda) Needs a Hug, Link is a bean, Link is a dumbass, Mentions of Blood, Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), NO ONE (important) DIES, Not Abandoned, Platonic Relationships, Protective Sheik, Sidon is a pure and innocent bean, Swearing, just a little, just slow, mentions of gore, no beta we die like men, protective sidon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2019-10-21 10:24:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17641007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neutraloneo/pseuds/neutraloneo
Summary: Hylians cut off contact a couple generations ago, causing all to slowly forget about them save for the few appearances of soldiers in Hyrule Field.Now, a Malice is spreading, infecting and consuming everything in its path- and the Hylians seem to be the cause of it.ORLink is a potion maker who just wants freedom.Sidon is a Prince who just wants a friend.Sheik is an AI who wants to see the world and make sure that two dumbasses don't get themselves killed.





	1. How to Make Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Voice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11532468) by [andrhars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrhars/pseuds/andrhars). 



> This work was inspired by "The Voice" by andrhars, and I suggest that you go and read it! I've taken a few elements from that story (sorry) like Shiek being an AI in the slate. That's about it.  
> This idea has been in the work for a little bit, I only have the first chapter written, I don't know when I'll be uploading, and I only have major plot points (sort of) planned out (kind of). I really hope that you enjoy it!

The cold winds of Hebra seemed to pick up whenever Link took a step forward. His clothes were soaked, the thin fabric doing nothing to protect against the harsh weather. Of course the Queen couldn’t give him anything warmer, she had to save those resources for the soldiers - those who actually needed it. She had always been like that: unreasonable. Surely the soldiers who were patrolling around the temperate forests around Hyrule Castle didn’t need full on jackets. Surely she could have spared _one_ for her Alchemist who was going into the Hebra Mountains to fight a Lynel to get ingredients for _her_ potions for _her_ soldiers. _Yes_ , it was winter, but the field never dropped too low below freezing. Up in the Hebra Mountains, Link was surprised he was still alive.

He shook his head and rubbed his arms, hoping and praying that some form of warmth would arrive soon. His teeth were chattering so hard that he was surprised that they weren’t broken. He was shaking so much that he was surprised that he could still walk.

All of this to go and fight a Lynel.

Link wasn’t even too sure if he was still on the right path - the blizzard having picked up a while ago, forcing Link to slow his steps should he not want to accidentally fall down a cliff. Because of the almost white-out conditions, Link wasn’t too sure if he had started going in circles or not. He had no map to speak of, and even if he did, it would have been completely ruined by the snow, frost, ice, and the wind.

The fucking wind.

Link used to love the wind when he was a child. He loved climbing up trees in the summer and feeling the wind swirl around him when he got to the top. Now, that didn’t happen very often as the Queen rarely let anyone out of Castle Town unless they had a reason, but Link sometimes managed to sneak out at night to feel the wind and watch the stars.

That love of the wind had dwindled very quickly as he got older. Now, the wind was nothing more than a nuisance: something that made his arrows go off course, something that tried to blow him off the side of a cliff he was climbing, and something that made the cold of the mountains even _fucking_ **_worse_**! There was little use complaining though, there was nothing that he could do to make his situation any better.

Only worse.

Link felt the arrow before he registered anything else. A sharp pain embedding into his shoulder that caused him to fall backwards, landing in the snow, slightly dazed and wondering what was going on. He managed to sit up and inspect his shoulder- a regular arrow. Strange. What in the name of Hylia would use arrows in a white-out blizzard on the top of a mountain range. What would have been able to even see him well enough to hit him with an arrow? How had the wind not made this arrow go off course? Was it shot that way? What in the world had such amazing shooting skills.

 _Lynels_.

Fuck.

Link managed to roll out of the way of another incoming arrow, accidentally giving himself a face-full of snow in the process. Where was it? Link had to locate it quickly before the Lynel got even better at shooting or decided to launch a surprise attack…

Another arrow, coming from his left. Link dodged again and grabbed out his sword, running blind as quickly as he could across to where he hoped the Lynel still was. He heard a grunt to his right and swung at it, his sword hitting home on something. Link turned and saw the form of a Lynel: big, tall, towering over Link with an expression that was not normal for a Lynel. There was more murderous intent than usual, more malice and hate in its eyes.

Link’s eyes widened as he took in the form of the giant beast before him, his sword stuck in the leg of the Lynel. This was not an ordinary Lynel, this was not any kind of Lynel that Link had ever seen before. What was wrong with it? Why was it just standing there, staring at him? Link pulled hard on his sword, trying to dislodge it from the leg of the Lynel. Something was wrong. Something was _very_ wrong! His sword wasn’t coming out, it almost seemed stuck. Stealing a glance down to the leg from where Link maintained eye-contact, he saw that the Lynel’s skin had grown around the sword, trapping it inside the leg. The purple blood that would usually be staining the snow was slowly making its way up the length of the sword, bubbling and burning. A metallic scent filled the air as Link saw the blood eat away at the metal of the sword, breaking it a couple centimetres away from where the sword was embedded, leaving Link with a much shorter, jagged edged sword that did not look helpful in this situation.

There was something wrong with this Lynel, and Link did not want to stick around to find out. _Yes_ , he needed Lynel horns for the potions that he was tasked with making. _Yes_ , this was one of the only places that Link was allowed that housed a Lynel, and _yes_ , Link would probably be executed or banished should the Queen find out that he ran from this fight, but the survival instincts that Link had managed to obtain over his years of living in Castle Town, avoiding guards and the ever-seeing eye of the Queen, told him to run.

Link took one last look up at the face of the Lynel before backing away slowing, his sword held out in front of him in a defensive measure. He knew better than to turn his back on an enemy, even if it meant he would be able to escape faster or actually know where he was going. This time, it didn’t matter. Link could barely see around him and he _needed_ to know if/when the Lynel was going to strike again.

The Lynel just stood there, staring at him, unmoving as if a statue. Link continued to back up slowly, putting one foot behind the other and slowly making distance. The Lynel was almost out of Link’s seeing range when something strange happened.

The Lynel smiled a wicked smile.

What. The. Fuck.

The Lynel then slowly, as if not to scare Link, took the spear from off it’s back and held it at its side. Link stopped moving at this point. The adrenaline that had been fading spiked back up again, warning him of danger. The only sounds heard were the howling wind as the two figures stood stock still and looked at each other.

It was almost an art piece; a strange recreation of David and Goliath, a story told to young Hylian soldiers to keep up their courage and have them believe that they could fight and win against anyone and everything. Link loved listening in on the storytimes when he was younger, but he didn’t believe any of the mumbo-jumbo being fed to the minds of his peers. His Alchemist-Master told him everything he needed to know, even that it was okay to run from fights if they were too much. Link took that advice to heart, turned, and started running.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to beat the Lynel, he didn’t even know if he could injure it enough for it to stop attacking him. He was scared, even though he didn’t want to admit it. Link heard the Lynel let out an ear-piercing roar before galloping towards him.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit!

Link tried to run faster but the deep snow wasn’t helping any. It came up to his knees and trudging through the snow at a slow pace was difficult enough, let alone running for his life. The Lynel caught up easily, swinging his spear in a way that would have cleaved Link’s head off his shoulders had he not ducked. It stormed past Link, it’s thundering hooves almost as loud as the roar it had let off earlier. It’s movement was in no way impeded by the snow, easily and gracefully moving through it like an arrow without any resistance.

Link got up quickly and ran towards where the Lynel was, hoping to pull off something similar to what just happened, or maybe just sprint past it while it was attacking. The beast gave another ear-splitting roar and ran at Link as well, closing the distance a lot faster than Link could ever hope to manage. Link was expecting another cleaving swing that he could dodge under, he expected another swing that would kill him if he didn’t move fast enough. Link had not expected the Lynel to anticipate what he was going to do. Usually it took two or three times of Link using one strategy before he would have to move to a different one.

This Lynel learnt fast.

Link waited until the Lynel swing at him before ducking down and rolling away. It seemed to have anticipated the movement because before Link could stand back up and keep running, a sharp pain stabbed him on the left part of his lower back. He let out a yelp from surprise, the pain not taking full effect because of the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, probably keeping him alive at this rate. Link glanced over his shoulder and saw the Lynel, the same terrifying smirk on its face as it leaned down on the spear. More pain flourished from the small of Link’s back where the spear had impaled him. He tried to crawl away but the spear embedded in his gut kept him in place. The Lynel gave one final press on the spear, sticking Link’s impaled body into the frozen ground and ice below the snow.

Link tried to get up but failed, the spear was all the way through his torso and stuck into the ground. The red of his blood was quickly staining the snow and Link was beginning to feel dizzy.

The Lynel, the ever kind fellow, decided that it _shouldn’t_ leave Link stuck to the ground and grabbed onto the spear with both hands. It then pulled up with such force, pulling the spear cleanly out of Link, making his already bad wound more and more fatal by the second. Link could almost swear that the entirety of the Hebra Mountain Range could hear his screams over the howling wind of the blizzard.

He was bleeding faster now, his winter tunic slowly getting more and more wet with blood, the snow getting more and more saturated. Link knew that if he stayed here, he would die. If he got out of range of the Lynel, then maybe, _maybe_ he would have a chance at survival. It was a slim chance with the way his injury was, but it was a chance that Link was willing to take.

He got up as quick as he could, ignoring the way that his vision clouded with black spots for a second, ignoring the way the ground seemed to be tilting this way and that, and started walking away as quickly as he could. His hands were at his wound, putting pressure on it the best he could. The arrow was still in his shoulder making it a bit difficult to move his right arm, but he would deal with that later, _if_ he survived. He left a blood trail behind him as well as footprints that were close together and went all over the place as Link stumbled and tried to keep his balance. The Lynel walked behind Link, taking pleasure in the way that Link was stumbling around, close to death, but not too close. He would last a few more minutes.

With a final ear-piercing roar, the Lynel galloped in front of Link and grabbed him by the neck, hoisting him up so that they saw eye-to-eye.

“ _Kill.. the.. Hylian,”_ the Lynel growled, its voice not used to making words, only growls and guttural sounds.  _“Let.. the.. Malice.. **consume**!”_

Link was choking, the hand around his throat tightening with every word until he couldn’t breathe. His vision was clouding faster than before as he tried, in vain, to breathe through the grip on his throat. The grip suddenly let go and Link dropped to the ground, one hand putting pressure on his even more aggravated wound, and the other one lightly touching his own neck as he gasped and wheezed in the cold air of the mountains. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to be awake, everything hurt.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sharp pain that irradiated from his torso, just by his lungs, and suddenly he was flying through the air. Link didn’t know what to do as he spun through the air. He had no wings, he couldn’t fly! He also didn’t have anything that would break his fall or slow his decent. Link did what he thought best in this situation: curl up into a tiny ball, legs protecting his torso, his arms protecting his head, and pray.

A few more seconds of flying through the air later, and Link didn’t get the hard landing that he thought that he would have gotten- slamming into the side of a mountain or splatting onto the ice covered ground, or getting impaled by a tree, or landing in the range of a _different_ Lynel. All of those had been real possibilities, all of those probably had a higher probability than what had happened to Link.

He landed in a snowbank.

Granted, there was still a jarring force from stopping after flying through the air, but he managed to land somewhat softly in a snowbank, rolling a bit along it before coming to a stop. Had Hylia heard his prayers? Was he just _that_ lucky? Was this even lucky? Now that Link was no longer around the strange Lynel (what was even _up_ with that thing? It spoke! To him… about Malice? Who was Malice?), Link now had to deal with his injuries.

That was the big ‘if’ factor in him getting off the Hebra Mountains or not… the injuries. The arrow wasn’t that bad, Link just had to either push it through or pull it out of his shoulder (depending on how deep it was) and then cauterize the wound with a red-hot sword or dagger. The wound in his stomach was going to be a different story altogether. The black spots that had been slowly invading his vision completely took it over when Link tried to push himself to sit up and inspect his injuries. Ringing took over his ears as well, blocking out the roaring wind and Link’s harsh breathing. It hadn’t pierced a lung, but it had still scrambled Link’s insides like they were eggs.

How the fuck was he going to fix this? Was he even able to fix this? _Maybe dying in the mountains will be more merciful than dying in front of the Queen,_ Link thought. _At least now I’ll be able to keep my dignity and not be offered up to the Dungeon Master._

 

* * *

 

Sidon loved the cold. He loved it when winter fell on Zora’s Domain, when snow covered the landscape, when the top layer of the water turned to ice. He loved how quiet everything became- how he could just step outside while the Domain slept and not hear anything except his own footsteps and breaths if he allowed.

The Hebra Mountains, however, were a little much, even for him.

Sure, everything was covered in snow and ice, sure there were no sounds except for footsteps and breathing, but the wind messed everything up by making it just a bit too cold (read: _really_ cold). Sidon and his party continued to move through the Hebra mountains despite the blizzard telling them to stop and make camp. The party of four had been coming back from a meeting with the Rito at their perch, exchanging information and reaffirming their alliances.

The information shared mostly revolved around how more and more monsters seemed to be being infected with Malice, how the Hylian reach was getting further and further away from the borders that had been established multiple generations ago, and how everyone needed to bulk up their military because soon they could be facing a war. No one wanted to go to war, no one wanted to face whatever was creating the Malice. No one wanted to _kill_ anyone. Everyone was fine with the fact that they may have to kill Hylians as no one had been in contact with them for a couple centuries, the Royal family closing off the borders and trade long before that. No longer was anyone familiar with the way Hylians looked, sounded, or acted- the only affirmation that they were not all dead were the sightings of roaming soldiers in Hyrule Field once or twice a year.

Yes, no one had any trouble sleeping over the fact that Hylian blood would be spilled if a war was started, what no one wanted to find out was how easily Malice spread and if they would have to kill friends, family, loved ones if they became infected.

Sidon himself had never seen a Hylian before, but he was told that they were a lot like the Sheikah, only shorter and with darker hair. Sidon had once seen a photo of a Hylian (though he didn’t count this as seeing an actual Hylian) that Laflat had once taken. It was a picture of a singular Hylian (which was strange because they mostly travelled in pairs or small groups) climbing a tree to grab what looked like an apple.

Laflat had explained that once the Hylian saw that she was there, they took off running in the opposite direction, scared. Sidon had formed his opinion of Hylains right then and there: they were adorable.

They reminded him of ducklings.

“Sidon!” Bazz’s voice sounded in front of him. Everyone drew their weapons as an instinct, no one wanted to be caught off guard. “Listen,”

Sidon strained his ears to hear anything over the howling winds of Hebra, but he thought he heard _something_ though he wasn’t too sure what it was. It was high-pitched and reminded him of the playful shouts that the Zora children made when playing, but this one sounded more pained.

“Do you know what it is?” Sidon asked. Bazz shook his head and looked towards Dunma and Gaddison to see if they knew. He got two headshakes as a reply. No one knew what made that sound.

“Maybe a Lynel infected by Malice?” Gaddison offered.

“But we know what a Lynel sounds like,” Dunma pointed out gently, “We hear it all the time on Ploymus.”

“Wouldn’t it be deeper if it were a Lynel?” Bazz asked, turning around and making a circle. It wasn’t a good move on a defensive point of view, but it made it easier to discuss and brainstorm what they had just heard.

“Doesn’t Malice make voices higher though?” Gaddision questioned.

“No,” Dunma said, again gently. “Remember all the Bokoblins and Moblins that were infected? If anything, their voices got deeper.”

“I wasn’t there on that mission.” Gaddision replied, “ I was defending the bridge.”

“That’s okay. We’ll just have to show you next time we see one.” Dunma said with an inviting smile.

“I think that it would be a good idea to have more people on that patrol,” Sidon interjected, turning into the circle from where he was looking, trying to find out just where that sound came from so that they could inspect it. “They’re quite difficult to kill.”

“If you don’t hit them with some kind of Elemental weapon, their ability to heal will make them heal _around_ your weapon.” Bazz instructed.

“I mean, generally, the weaker the monsters are around them, the weaker they themselves are,” Dunma explained further, “I mean, an infected Bokoblin won’t nearly be able to heal as fast as a Lynel.”

Something landed in the snow near them. It rolled for a little bit before coming to a stop, barely moving. Red stained its path and made the four Zora stare in curiosity.

Sidon, his weapon still drawn, instructed the others to stay back a couple of steps and act as back-up as he went to investigate. Everyone agreed to this plan, readying their weapons as Sidon slowly crept forward. The thing was badly injured, bleeding profusely from a wound in its lower torso. It tried to move, to sit up, but a pained yelp escaped from it before it fell into the snow again and stopped moving.

The Zora party crept forward, keeping a careful eye on the thing- they couldn’t tell what it was because of the clothing it had on, some kind of tunic with a hood which obstructed its face. It was almost completely covered in snow as well. Sidon felt a wave of pity for the creature the closer he got. He slowly knelt down next to the lump of creature and put his hand on its shoulder, slowly flipping it over onto its back in order to see just what it was.

“A Hylian!” Dunma gasped when the creature settled onto its back. It was a Hylian- darker hair than the Sheikah (this one’s looking the colour of straw), and (when pulled out of the snow) definitely shorter than the average Sheikah. A Hylian! The first one that Sidon had seen in his entire life! But the Royal family (presumably) kept them under tight lock and key, so why was this one in the Hebra Mountains?

“Do we save it?” Bazz looked like he wanted to poke the Hylian with his spear.

“Yes! You buffoon!” Dunma exclaimed. “They could tell us the best way to defeat them in combat should it come to war! Or the best way to sneak into their towns! Or a more effective way to defeat the Malice!”

Sidon nodded, “Dunma’s right. They could have a lot of information for us.”

“We just have to _stop_ them from _bleeding_ _out!”_ Gaddison basically shouted, running forward and putting pressure on the Hylian’s wound. “We won’t be able to get any information out of them should they _die_!” To prove his point, he lifted the tunic of the Hylian just enough so that the wound was on full display: dark blood, almost black, was seeping out of the wound at a steady pace. Sidon could almost swear that he could see _through_ the wound as well.

That image spurred Sidon into action. Sure, they could get a lot of information out of the Hylian, but they were also very cute (again, like a duckling) and Sidon wanted to have a conversation with the Hylian- compare lives. He could show them around Zora’s Domain, he could learn how to fight like a Hylian, he could have a friend.

“Mipha, don’t fail me now.” Sidon muttered as he put one hand over the other and placed both above the wound. He wasn’t as powerful as his sister when it came to healing others (or himself for that matter), but as a member of the Zora Royal Family, he possessed _some_ capability for healing. It was never perfect, unlike Mipha’s, but it worked for battlefield wounds, closing them up and making them not fatal anymore.

The three other Zora stood around the Hylian and watched Sidon work, not really having anything to do until most of the bleeding stopped. Dunma had bandages ready and Bazz and Gaddison were keeping watch for whatever could have caused the Hylian this much damage. If Sidon wasn’t concentrating so hard on healing the Hylian, he would have wondered where they came from because the blood trail that they left just suddenly appeared a couple metres away.

Slowly but surely, the wound began to close, the blood began to flow slower, and the Hylian started to breathe easier. When Sidon pulled away (as per the request of everyone around him, saying that he shouldn’t over exert himself because they still had more travelling to go before they thought themselves safe), the wound was still there, it was still bleeding, but it could heal on its own now and the Hylian was no longer in the state of _going-to-die-soon_ , so Sidon agreed. Dunma quickly knelt down and, with the help of Sidon picking the Hylian up, wrapped the bandages around their torso.

There was still an arrow in their shoulder, but Bazz (being the one least concerned about hurting the Hylian) quickly pulled it out and threw it off to the side, allowing Dunma to cover that wound in bandages as well.

“Their ribs are broken.” she said to no one in particular. She quickly lifted up the rest of the tunic and wrapped more bandages around the chest of the Hylian, being careful not to apply too much pressure. Dunma was an amazing Medic, the head of the Medic Team back at Zora’s Domain and loved trading tips, tricks, and information with the Rito Medic’s because _“They are the most advanced Medics besides us. We need to make sure that our techniques are kept up to date!”_

Sidon watched in awe (even though he was supposed to be following Gaddison and Bazz away towards the designated camp for travellers) at how carefully Dunma handled the Hylian. He knew that it wasn’t because they were injured- he had seen Dunma handle Zora, Rito, and Gerudo alike with more force when they had much more grave injuries than the Hylian. Was it because they were a Hylian and not much was known about Hylians? Sidon shook his head slightly and turned around to follow Bazz and Gaddison; he could think about this when everyone was out of danger. He could ask these questions when everyone was back at Zora’s Domain.

He could use his energy to think about these things when everyone was safe.

 

* * *

 

Camp was put up at the camping spot: a cabin of sorts, only stocked with an axe, a fireplace, some wood, and something to light the entire contraption with. There wouldn’t be any volunteers for restocking cabins that might go unused for months at a time with food, water, and medical supplies. It was pointless.

Bazz managed to get the fire started while Gaddison kept watch outside and Sidon and Dunma set up the sleeping bags. They usually slept in water pods, but with the cold of the Hebra mountains and no feasible way of transporting _that_ amount of water safely without being bogged down or it all freezing (and subsequently taking _forever_ to unthaw so that they could sleep), any Zora traveller slept in sleeping bags, the design of which was shared with them by the Rito.

Sidon offered his up to the Hylian when he noticed them shaking and shivering. Everyone agreed (even though Dunma seemed a little hesitant to) as all of them had been travelling all day and didn’t really want to give up that extra piece of comfort. Everyone then ate a small dinner and headed to sleep, Gaddison staying up for first watch because he _wasn’t even that tired, I swear!_ Sidon didn’t believe him, but all the walking, the cold, and the healing for the Hylian had really taken his energy out of him, so he didn’t argue. He did say, however, that he would take second watch.

 

* * *

 

“He’s only a Hylian!” Gaddison whispered harshly.

“Yeah. Keyword: _Hylian_! They haven’t been seen around for centuries! When they have, they’re on _military patrols!”_ Bazz spat back.

“This one was alone though, didn’t even have a sword on them.”

“That would make it more dangerous, wouldn’t you think? If a warrior is alone, that means that they are _trained_ and _well._ ”

“They look about as strong as a frog. I think that one of us, let alone four could easily take them down if need be.”

“Would you _stop_ humanizing that thing? _They_ are where the Malice is coming from!”

“You don’t know that!”

“My theory hasn’t been proven wrong yet. Hylians are dangerous, and Sidon was a _fool_ for healing it. Mark my words, that thing is going to be our downfall!”


	2. The Duckling Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for this being late. I am so sorry to all of you wondering if this fic was abandoned before it even took off.  
> If I'm being honest, I didn't really plan much for after Sidon found Link. I just knew what was going to happen once they get to the Domain. So..... would you believe that this chapter kicked my ass?  
> This chapter also isn't as well-written as the other one, just because I wasn't exactly sure where I was going, what I was doing, and such. It's also probably going to get repetitive until Sidon learns Link's name and Link learns Sidon's name.  
> Things that don't make sense probably will in the future.  
> Thank you for reading!!!!!

Soldiers broke into houses as an ear-splintering roar sounded over Castle Town. The streets themselves shook as the Dungeon Master made it known that he requires more- that the offering for the night of the Blood Moon would not be enough.

Screams shook the houses and made themselves known as the call from the Dungeon Master faded. Hylians were dragged out of their homes, family members trying and failing to pull them back in, yelling and screaming that they had done nothing wrong, that they were all paid up.

There was no pattern as to who got taken that night, no rhyme or reason- young children, strong factory people, the weak and the ill - seventeen were taken. Much more than the offerings to the Dungeon Master usually were- usually only five or six- a total of twenty-six were in the dungeon, waiting for the Blood Moon in five days to claim their lives.

Snow started to fall as the Hylians were dragged into the castle and thrown down into the dungeon. It covered the ground and the small spots of blood that came from those who resisted- almost washing away the memories by the time the sun rose. Tears still stained the faces of the families of those who were taken, their hearts still ached with the knowledge of their deaths. But they knew there was nothing that they could do, nothing that they could say to bring their loved ones back- they just had to start preparing an empty grave for them.

 

* * *

 

 ** _“I am almost free,”_ **the Dungeon Master creaned in the Queen's ear. **_“Only a little more and my power shall be yours. All of the far reaches of this land shall be yours. No one shall stop you.”_**

The Queen nodded as she walked further through the dungeon, looking in at all of the sacrifices that had broken a law.

“We're innocent!”

“I can still work in the fields!”

“He's just a child! An innocent child!”

“How can a child be guilty?!”

“Take more of the ill- not me!”

Their screams merged together into one as the Queen slowly walked through the dungeon. Their words were not true, however. Each one was guilty in one way or another. The child was caught outside Castle Town. The one worker was caught taking more rations. The old, ill man was guilty of passing his medications to the small child in there with him- one that caught a small fever that was of no concern to anyone. They had all broken the law- they had all betrayed the trust that the Queen put in them.

In five days, their last breaths would be taken as the Blood Moon rose. The ground would be stained in more blood, the stones would receive a fresh coat and be further stained. The guillotine needed to be sharpened now that the Queen had the thought in her mind: the Dungeon Master preferred sacrifices that had not suffered in death.

 ** _“Their screams are louder. Their blood is fresher. They still have some fight in them.”_** It explained once when the Queen received the throne from her father. **_“The more fight they have in them, the more that I can take from them, and the more power I can obtain- the more power I can give you.”_**

The Queen smiled as she walked past the prisoners, a slight spring in her step as she almost skipped. She hummed a little song under her breath when she remembered the smell of the blood after last month's ceremony. She loved the smell, the colour; it was an art piece that got erased and redone every single month, and it never got old as the art work was never the same. There was always differences in the colour of the blood, slight differences of shade and hue, which made delightful swirls if one looked closely enough.

“Let us out!”

“I don't want to die!”

“I'm too young!” The screams spurred the Queen on further through the dungeon, her singing becoming louder and her skip becoming more prominent.

_“I will cut your head clean off, and grind your bones to dust! Don't think that you can escape, for there is no one you can trust!”_

A bastardization of a nursery rhyme sung by the Hylian children about Spring overtaking Winter. She continued until she reached the stairs out of the dungeon.

 ** _“Soon,”_ **The Dungeon Master reassured. **_“Soon everything will be yours, and everyone will shake in your presence, at the mere mention of your name.”_**

“Everyone shall fear Queen Zelda.” the Queen answered the voice of the Dungeon Master before taking one last look back at the sacrifices, a smile still playing on her lips, and ascended the stairs.

 

* * *

 

The Hylian was awake.

Sidon had been keeping watch, the sun beginning to rise over the Hebra mountains, the blizzard having died down a couple hours ago. The sky was beautiful: golds and rose pinks blending together and painting the sky. Everything outside looked like a dream, the untrodden snow reflecting the sky and giving the world a magical glow.

Sidon had been so busy being mesmerized by outside that he didn't notice the Hylian awaken. They didn't give any sign that they were awake either, no noises exited them in the form of a sleep-filled groan or a pain-induced whimper. The only sound that informed Sidon of the Hylian awaking was the slight ruffle of the sleeping bag.

Looking back, Sidon expected to see Dunma or Gaddison walking up as they had always been early risers, but he instead saw the Hylian. Their eyes were wide in fear, staring at Sidon, only breaking eye contact to look around the room for an escape.

Dunma, Gaddison, and Bazz were still asleep, the Hylian seeming to not notice them yet, their eyes staring stock straight at Sidon. Their breathing quickened, eyes barely glancing away from Sidon. Sidon didn't know what to do. Should he try to approach the Hylian? Start a conversation? Block the exits? He decided that he should put his hands up in the air to show that he had no ill will towards them, to show that he won't attack them.

It was a good idea, but when Sidon started to slowly move, the Hylian launched themselves out of the sleeping bag, trying to get to the window. They didn't get very far though, their wounds still not healed fully and still painful. They fell down after two steps, backing themselves against a wall and scrounging the ground for any available weapon. Their hands found the axe for the wood and held it up as if it were a sword pointed straight at Sidon. Their expression pained as they did this, however, the action putting unneeded pressure on their wounds.

The scuffle woke everyone else up, reaching for their weapons as they rose to see what was going on. Sidon, hands in the air at this point, looked back and forth between the Hylian and his friends.

Bazz glanced between Sidon and the axe held in the Hylain's hands. He made a quick decision and, before anyone could tell him not to or for Sidon to explain the situation, he ran, sword drawn, at the Hylian. The Hylian couldn't react quick enough, swiping with the axe but missing entirely and giving Bazz a giant opening to stab the Hylian through the shoulder.

 

* * *

 

Link was pinned again. Link was again with monsters, but these ones he couldn't recognize. They were giant fish almost, looking a bit like how his Potions Master had described a shark- at least that's what Link thought they were called. What were giant fish-sharks doing in Hebra? And why were they so aggressive?

Why was Link alive? He had been dying! Why wasn't he dead? He had lost so much blood! He was unable to tend to his wounds before he passed out. Had they saved him?

“Sidon!” the one who stabbed him yelled at the red one. “Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine.” the red one- Sidon?- answered.

“Bazz!” another one of the fish-sharks yelped after a couple seconds- everyone needing a bit of time to process what just happened. “My patient!”

“Your _patient_ tried to kill the prince!” the one who stabbed Link through the shoulder refuted. He (their voice was low, so Link could only assume) gave one last shove at his sword, making sure that it was fully pinning Link to the wall ( _Just like the Lynel_ ) and briskly walked the few steps to the fish-shark he was arguing with.

“My patient did _nothing! You_ stabbed them before they could do anything!”

“It swung at me with an axe! It tried to take my head off!”

“Will you stop referring to the Hylian as ‘it’! _They_ are a person! _They_ are alive! And _they_ should be treated with _respect!”_

“The day that I respect a Hylian is the day that I die.”

The argument was about to continue further, but the red fish-shark that was awake when Link awoke stood up. “Woah. Woah. _Woah._ Everyone needs to _stop yelling_ at each other and _talk it out_ like the _civilized_ Zora we are!”

The room went quiet, the tension thick. Link tried to keep his breathing quiet but the adrenaline that had been pumping through his veins was slowly wearing thin, making the new wound (and the old ones) much more known to Link whenever he so much as breathed.

“Sidon, why don’t you tell us what happened before we all woke up?” There was another one?! How many were there?! Link thought that there had been only three before, but now a fourth one just showed up out of nowhere! Where did they come from? Did they teleport? All of them spoke, some more nicely than others, and their voices didn’t seem warped like the Lynel’s had been- but what if their voices were warped and Link just didn’t know because he had never encountered this type of monster before.

Should he try to run? Attack? It was four against one. Four very tall, unharmed fish-sharks with weapons, and one tired, injured Hylian who- if he was lucky- could snag the sword in his shoulder or the axe a couple feet away from him.

The odds did not look good.

“They did nothing wrong!” the red fish-shark explained. “They woke up and was afraid, so I put my hands up to show that I’m not going to hurt them. They’re scared, Bazz! And you made them even more scared.” The four fish-sharks turned to look at Link in unison. Three of the four eyes were sympathetic in some way, but one pair only held hatred. And they looked a lot like the Lynel’s did: hatred- pure hatred.

“Permission to help the Hylian!” one of the fish-sharks squeaked. They had a higher pitched voice and was slightly (only slightly) shorter than the other three. Female? A she? The red fish-shark sighed, putting his head in his hands.

“Dunma, you don’t need to ask stuff like that. I’m not the king.” The female one- Dunma?- only looked at the not-king with pleading eyes. He sighed, “Permission granted. But please stop speaking like that.”

Dunma (definitely Dunma, Link decided) took careful steps towards a pack on the floor, reaching in and bringing out a smaller satchel with a small red cross on it. She made direct eye contact with Link and slowly, ever so slowly and carefully, walked towards him. She made no sudden movements and kept her eyes and demeanor soft the entire time. The one with hatred-filled eyes scoffed and stalked out of the cabin- a blast of cold air rushing into the cabin and settling on and around everything like a fine dust. Link shivered but kept eye-contact with Dunma. He didn’t trust her too much, but she hadn’t attacked him yet. She slowly knelt beside Link.

“May I remove the sword from your shoulder?” she asked. Link blinked. She was asking his _permission?_ The healers back in Castle Town would just waltz up to Link, rip the sword out, pour some ale on the wound, and then burn it back together with a red hot sword. Link nodded silently. It was a strange concept to him- being asked if he was okay with something being done to him. It felt nice though? Link wasn’t too sure. Maybe this was just this monster’s way of getting Link’s guard down so that they could murder him in cold blood.

So why did they save him then?

 

* * *

 

The Hylian was so small.

When Bazz stormed out and the cold air blew in, the Hylian shivered. Sidon had only ever seen the Rito do that when they were drying their feathers off after they got wet. They were so cute! Exactly like a duckling- a duckling that got hurt under Sidon’s protection.

They never let their gaze fall from where Dunma was slowly approaching. The only sign that they might be in distress was the tighter gripping of the tunic that they wore where their uninjured arm was held.

After Dunma asked permission to remove the sword, a look of confusion swept over the Hylian’s face. Why was that so confusing? Dunma just didn’t want to go too far out of the Hylian’s comfort range. So why did they look even _more_ scared?

They nodded slowly- their eyes glancing between the sword and Dunma. Were they planning on attacking? Bazz would think that they were and proceed to grab a weapon (probably Gaddison’s spear) and ram in through the head of the Hylian and making sure that they were dead.

“This is going to hurt so…” Dunma looked around for something. She dug around in her medical bag and produced a bottle wrapped in leather. Quickly unwrapping the leather from the bottle (a small one which contained a green, shiny-ish liquid that was probably from the Rito), Dunma motioned for the Hylian to open their mouth and bite down on the leather. “So that you don’t bite your tongue off.”

The Hylian (probably just wanting to get the sword out of their shoulder) barely hesitated before nodding and opening their mouth a tiny bit. Dunma asked if they could open a little wider so that she could ensure that the leather wouldn’t slip, and also, “To protect your teeth so that none of them get chipped or broken. Trust me. It hurts.” The Hylian did as they were told, allowing Dunma to position the leather in their mouth before clamping down on it. Dunma had given a little gasp when the Hylian obeyed the instructions- a shudder running through her as she grabbed the hilt of the sword.

“Sidon? Gaddison?” Dunma asked the two other Zora. Slowly they approached. “This is Sidon, and this is Gaddison. They’re nice and they’re not going to hurt you. They’re just going to help me remove this sword, is that okay?”

A few moments of hesitation later and the Hylian nodded again. Dunma instructed Sidon to push the Hylian into the wall while Dunma and Gaddison made sure that the sword came out as smoothly as possible. Everyone got into position (Sidon making sure that he had permission to do his part from the Hylian) and pulled.

A scream tore its way through the throat of the Hylian- their back arching from pain, their jaw clamping hard on the leather. The scream was exactly like the one that Sidon and his group had heard back before they found the Hylian. He wasn’t surprised that the Hylian had made that noise- they had been injured quite gravely beforehand.

The sword was out.

The Hylian sagged forward, their jaw still clenched but clearly very tired and in pain from everything that just happened. Sidon kept his arms around the Hylian, making sure that they didn’t fall over- and relishing in the fact that he was having contact with a Hylian- an actual Hylian. A little baby duckling that was now going to be in his care because Sidon decided that he didn’t like it when the Hylian was hurt. They were so small, they seemed so delicate. They shouldn’t be hurt.

Blood poured forth from the wound as Dunma quickly began to stitch together the cut. She apologized every single time she drew the needle through skin, every single time she pulled string through that. Her apologies and the harsh breathing of the Hylian filled the room- the previous tension left behind by Bazz was no longer present- the cold chill that replaced his presence no longer lingered as the air warmed up.

The Hylian had done nothing wrong, they were hurt, scared, and confused, and Bazz hurt them quite terribly. Sidon had offered to use his healing powers, but Dunma shot him down, reminding him that they needed to be on the road to the Domain soon should they want to make it out of the mountains by nightfall. “And the last thing that we need is an exhausted prince. You can carry the Hylian if you wish, but that’s it.” she had said in a stern tone.

By the time that she was finished, the Hylian had lost consciousness, falling limp in Sidon’s arms, breathing evening out ever so slightly. Dunma quickly checked on their other wounds, made sure that everything was healing nice and properly (and that nothing else required stitches) before instructing Sidon to start packing things up and for Gaddison to go and fetch Bazz. “He may hate the Hylian, but he’s a part of this team and we need him.”

In twenty minutes everyone was ready to go. Everyone had quickly shoved some food down their throats and bundled up whilst getting everything together. The Hylian was put into two sleeping bags that were wrapped around them in a way so that nothing would fall off. They were cradled in Sidon’s arms almost like a child- they were only slightly larger than a Zora child, so the comparison was quite apt. Bazz took up the front (as per his request), Dunma walked behind him, Sidon behind her, and Gaddison bringing up the rear.

The sky was still a painting when they set off for the base of the Hebra mountains.

 

* * *

 

Light conversation flooded the air the closer that the group got to the base of the mountains.

They were almost to a stable where they could rent beds and sleep in a warm room- have warm food! The formation broke some (see: entirely) when Dunma dropped behind to walk beside Sidon and check up on the Hylian. Gaddison shrugged and ran to the front in order to walk beside Bazz- the two having seemingly random conversations about the weirdest things (Sidon heard conversations about how the Rito are able to braid their feathers, if the Goron are all one sex or not, the best way to skewer a bokoblin, and how to make flower crowns).

“They don’t have a tongue.” Dunma said once the conversation between her and Sidon about Hylian health died off.

Sidon was taken aback. “Is that normal?”

Dunma shook her head, “It can’t be. All other Hylians witnessed are capable of complex speech- they have tongues.” She looked solemnly over at the Hylian in Sidon’s arms, “Theirs looked cut off.”

Sidon looked down at the small Hylian. Their nose and cheeks were red from the cold- their eyes still shut and their breaths deep. Someone had hurt this Hylian- taking away the ability of speech. Sidon had heard about how corrupt their Queen was, but going this far? Was it even done by the Queen? If not, then who? It had to have been another Hylian. A few moments of silence passed, the whispered chatter of Bazz and Gaddison slightly filling up the air.

“I don’t know how we’ll get information now,” Dunma closed her eyes and sighed, “I don’t know if they have a way of communicating outside of ‘Yes or No’ questions. If that’s the case, I don’t know what the King is going to do with them.”

“I’m sure that they have some way of communicating. It’ll be fine.” Sidon tried to sound reassuring- he wasn’t sure how reassuring he sounded though. He was trying to convince both himself and Dunma that this precious Hylian would be safe.

Sidon then made the decision that, with him, they would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'll try to post more often, but there are no guarantees and I am so sorry about that!  
> Also! I screwed up the map a little bit so that the Rito Village is now on the northern side of the Hebra Mountains instead of the southern side. I am sorry.  
> Thank you everyone for reading and commenting and giving kudos.  
> 206 hits and 28 kudos????? You guys are so nice to me!!  
> Thank you all so much!


	3. Dawn of the Final Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry that this took, what, six months to get out. Sheesh, I'm an asshole.  
> A lot has happened and I have been completely unmotivated to write, still am a bit, but I want to get back into the swing of things because I still love this story with all my heart.  
> Some major changes in my life: graduated high school, got a job, worked full-time over the summer, got accepted into university, and made poor financial decisions.  
> Hopefully this chapter is up to par with what you're hoping, I promise that I'll write more!

Link was forced to his knees, soldiers restrained him by the shoulders as he fought to remain calm, still, and silent. The Queen walked towards him, the sharp knife catching the subtle lighting of the candles lining the walls. The only sounds heard were her loud footsteps as each shoe clanged against the stone floor.

Link swallowed his fear and kept looking down, eye-contact would get him hit again. His Potions Master stood to the side, watching as his Apprentice was accepted by the Queen as the new Potions Master.

The Queen leaned down in front of Link, toying with the knife as she spoke. “Repeat to me why I’m doing this. Permission to speak.”

Link answered quickly, “To ensure none of Castle Town’s secrets are stolen.” He tried not to flinch at the end of his answer when he saw the knife move towards him. It cradled his chin and forced his face upwards where he was suddenly looking at the face of the Queen. He wanted desperately to put his head back down, but the knife, sharpened so that it sliced through an apple like it were goat butter, was barely touching his skin. Any small movement would draw blood.

“Look me in the eyes. That is an order.” the Queen said in a calm manner. Link, terrified, obeyed.

Her eyes were striking, but not in the way that Link thought that they would be. He thought that they would be a rich brown like the soil in the crop fields, maybe a vibrant blue like the river that ran around Castle Town, or maybe a light green like tree leaves in spring. He was wrong. Dead wrong. Her eyes swirled with purples and reds, the colours fighting one another as they mixed and separated. Her entire eyes glowed as she stared down Link.

“Not many people get to look the Queen in the eyes.” she signaled one of the guards to grab Link’s tongue and hold it out. “Many of those who do are sacrifices, for the Dungeon Master wants them to be afraid as they die. You, however,” she laughed to herself as she stood, taking aim at Link’s tongue with the knife. “I want fear in your soul so that you don’t disobey your Queen!” she swung down and hit true.

Link’s tongue tumbled to the floor, his ability to speak forever muted, and the secrets of Castle Town forever enclosed in his mind, never to see the light of day.

 

* * *

 

“The Blood Moon will pass before we reach the Domain,” Bazz said from where he stood just outside their camp.

“How do you know this?” Gaddison didn’t even look up from what he was cooking to ask his question; just kept on stirring the soup over the fire.

Bazz pointed up towards the night sky, “See the moon?”

“Uh-huh.” Gaddison didn’t look up.

“See how it’s almost full?”

“Yep.”

“See the stars?”

A hum of approval was the only response given.

Bazz quickly re-entered the camp and stood beside the other Zora, arms crossed. “You weren’t looking! There aren’t any stars out this early in the morning!”

Gaddison sighed and looked at his friend, “Look, not all of us are huge astrology buffs, okay?” he turned back to the soup, “And besides,” he continued, “why worry about it? Monsters are going to reappear, I’m so scared!” he feigned terror and went back to stirring.

Bazz scoffed. “Hylians get possessed by Malice during the Blood Moon.”

A snort, “That can’t be true. Who’d you hear that from?”

“Muzu”

Gaddison stifled his laughter, careful not to wake Sidon or Dunma up. “You actually _believe_ what that old guy says?”

“He speaks the truth! The Hylians are connected to the Malice and let it consume them during Blood Moons!”

“Is _that_ why you hate the Hylian?” Gaddison expected an answer right away, a confirmation of his beliefs and then a further explanation. But none of that ever came. Gaddison stopped stirring the soup and slowly turned to face his friend. He looked sad, troubled. He poured salt in some kind of wound. He didn’t know what to say.

“Kodah,” Bazz said softly.

Gaddison became more confused. “He got lost in the Gerudo Desert and got dehydrated.”

Bazz shook his head. “Kodah never got close to the Desert. A group of Hylian soldiers ambushed him on the road, ripped him up, and infected him with Malice. Fronk and I were the ones who found him clinging to life and sanity on the side of the path. He begged us to kill him.

“We buried him in the nearby river and brought the news back to the King. He created the cover story so as not to elicit panic amongst everyone when they figured out Kodah was gone.” Bazz looked back up at the moon, “I still hear him sometimes, his voice begging to be killed as he choked on his own blood.”

Silence enveloped the campsite, nothing moved, sadness emitting like an aura from Bazz. Gaddison looked at the Hylian that Sidon was curled around protectively; they looked so innocent and fragile- how could someone like _that_ be capable of taking down an entire Zora? How could someone like that be evil? Sidon had taken to being quite fond of the Hylian, so could they- or at least, that particular one- be all that bad?

 

* * *

 

Wood creaked and stone groaned as the guillotine was set up in the middle of Castle Town. The Blood Moon would appear in a couple of hours and everything needed to be perfect! Blacksmiths sharpened the blade, builders reinforced the structure, and the soldiers stood guard around it all, threatening those who ventured too close with a sharp sword and a shout. The Queen stood watching from her chambers as maids made adjustments and touch-ups to her ceremonial dress.

The Dungeon Master helped design it in his image: a deep burgundy interwoven with fiery reds and oranges and hemmed with thick black. It was stained with the blood of sacrifices previous when the Queen got too close when the blade flew down and splattered blood everywhere. Those stains became a permanent feature of the dress as the Dungeon Master said that it added an element that could not be replicated with fabric or paints.

The Queen could barely contain her excitement as the night drew nearer and the moon started to rise. Soon, unlimited power would be hers and not just Castle Town would quake in fear at the mere mention of her name. Soon everyone would fall to their knees at her presence. A terrifying force of power with nothing to stop it! Soon, the Malice would consume everything and the entire world would be under her rule!

Once the sun was completely gone, the Queen made her way out of the castle and into the town proper. Followed closely behind her was many guards and a long line of her prisoners ready for sacrifice to the Dungeon Master.

The stone was painted with red before any stars twinkled into the sky. All of Castle Town was gathered around the centre of town, a small perimeter set up around the stage where the blood would spill. The Queen wanted every drop of blood to be untouched as she wanted to see the final art piece as it was painted by the guillotine.

Twenty-six heads would be separated from bodies, and those twenty-six bodies would be strung up by the ankles to bleed out onto the stone before being burned: their souls taken by the Dungeon Master as soon as the guillotine met flesh.

The Queen let out a squeak of joy every time the blade rushed down and beheaded the prisoners. She stared at them, making constant eye-contact throughout the entire process. The heads tumbled into her lap where the blood soaked into her dress and created new art. The heads were burned right away as the body was strung up and another prisoner was placed in the guillotine.

The blood flowed freely onto the stones below, mixing and swirling, bubbling and frothing, drying and coagulating. It steamed in the cold winter air, melting any snow and creating even more swirls and other strange effects. The art piece was revived again, more and more beautiful with each and every passing second.

The Blood Moon slowly made its presence known as everything began to take on a red hue. The air stunk of metal as the last prisoner was hoisted onto the stage and seated in the guillotine. A young boy in the soldier training programme found sneaking out of Castle Town with a small bag of rations: running away from the safety of the kingdom and into the wild unknowns at only twelve.

**_“He’s the last one,”_** the Dungeon Master whispered into the Queen’s ear. **_“One more and my power shall be yours, and everyone…”_**

The Queen smirked, “Will fear Queen Zelda.” Such a momentous occasion. Her goal that her family line had been fighting for for years was almost complete. _She_ was the one to complete it!

This called for a speech! Or, if not a speech proper, some kind of announcement.

“Citizens of Castle Town!” the Queen bellowed as she stood up and addressed everyone. “It is my pleasure to relay the information bestowed upon me by the Dungeon Master himself!”

A small murmur ran through the crowd before dying off as quickly as it appeared. Everyone’s attention was on the Queen, fear evident in their eyes and stature.

“The Dungeon Master is almost free! The goal to which all of us have been working towards for years is almost upon us. Soon, all the far reaches of this land will be under our rule! Soon, everyone shall obey us as unlimited power will be ours!” the Queen exclaimed following many excited hand gestures. “All that’s left is one more soul of a traitor and all that shall be ours! Riches and land beyond our wildest dreams will belong to us!”

The crowd cheered in response. Only one more and they would be free and have more land to their names. They could expand and the Queen would let them as there’d be no more need for constant surveillance.

A chant started as the Queen knelt back down to the eye-level of the traitor, tears gathering in his eyes as the chant of _“Spill his blood! Spill his blood!”_ grew louder and more demanding. The Queen grabbed hold of his chin and yanked his head upwards to meet his eyes with hers.

His tear-filled eyes were stern, terrified, and pissed-off at the same time. His voice trembled but held a firm resolve as he managed to spit out, “Death to the Crown.” before the blade came rushing down and the boy’s head tumbled into the lap of the Queen.

She smiled triumphantly and held the head by the hair. Standing up, she thrust her fist in the hair, the head swinging from side to side, fresh blood dripping hot from the stump. The crowd’s cheers became almost deafening.

“We have done it, Citizens of Castle Town! The Dungeon Master is now free and shall-”the Queen cut off as a sharp pain cut through her skull.

Everything became too loud.

Too bright.

Too much.

She dropped the head, letting it tumble off the stage as she gripped her ears to try and stop the loud ringing that filled her ears. Her face scrunched in pain, the Queen stumbled to get off the stage and back into the silence of the castle. She failed in this endeavor though as she couldn’t find her footing and toppled off the stage like the head she dropped.

Landing in the pool of drying blood, the Queen screamed as the pain in her head started getting stronger. Something was pounding on the inside of her skull, wanting to be let out. The cheering of the crowd stopped as everyone watched their Queen writhe in pain on the blood-covered ground. Her guards started rushing forward to help her but before they could reach her a pulse of energy radiated out from her. The Queen stilled on the ground, her back arched and her mouth open in a silent scream as the whole world stopped for a second.

Then chaos erupted.

Red and black fire erupted out of the Queen’s eyes, spewing into the sky and plunging everything into a darker shade of red. The fire turned into smoke, blotting out the stars and only letting the Blood Moon shine through. A creature then erupted out of the Queen a few seconds later, spurring those who hadn’t run away from fear yet to snap to their senses and follow their neighbors to safety.

The glowing, flaming head of a boar emerged, flying up into the sky and circling around the castle, letting out a giant roar of terror as it did so.

Citizens were running around, screaming. Some were quickly packing as much as they could into bags before trying to escape the town. Not many got far. The red and black fire landed on the ground, on houses, on people, and started burning. Some tried to put it out to save their homes and friends but the flames just grew bigger and bigger, taller and taller, with more and more intensity.

The boar kept on circling the castle, letting out roars and depositing red and black swirling piles of goop everywhere. Said goop started emitting some kind of fumes that left anyone nearby coughing and sputtering, gasping for air as they clawed at their own necks.

Sections of the castle started collapsing onto the town; giant boulder-sized chunks landing near or on top of civilians, causing even more panic.

But, as the Blood Moon waned, the screams of the Citizens of Castle Town grew fewer. The smoke started to clear and the red light of the Blood Moon turned back into the white light of the normal moon. Not many survived, but those that did had wishes that they were with their families in death. Their entire livelihoods were gone, all their life’s work destroyed. Houses were nothing more than a few semi-collapsed walls, the fields were burnt to ash, the castle looked as if half of it was completely destroyed.

Blood painted the landscape as the surviving citizens looked on as large snowflakes began to fall from the sky, attempting to cover up all that had transpired. The boar in the sky was gone, but replacing it was the Queen swirling in the same red and black smoke from earlier, skipping around the destruction from earlier with a wicked smile on her face and yellow glowing eyes.


End file.
